


Emotional Strength

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [83]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Clusterfuck, Discipline, Dom convention, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Spanking, Tessera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 83: Love.   Continuing to recover from the aftermath of the vision that saved John and Dean, Sam struggles, and brats, and finally Missouri tops them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Strength

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright notice: I hold the copyright for Mistress Tess & Tessera, original characters, and multiple storylines associated with her. Someday (hopefully sooner than later) you'll see her in a series of novels, I ask that at this time others refrain from use of the character or venue without express permission. She is allowed to play in fanfic, I just request that I know about it. Frankly, I hesitate to post any of the fics with her in them, it's always a struggle... but... here we are.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

Missouri stands, arms akimbo, scowling at Sam, who is backing up towards the bed, where she’s just ordered him. He’s sick of lying down already, yeah, the headache is still bad, but he really doesn’t want to- _oh shit_.

Tess’ voice is clear above Missouri’s. “Missouri?”

“In here.”

“I gathered that,” Tess says wryly. Then she crooks a finger at Sam. “Come here, boy.”

He doesn’t dare disobey, but he’s a little torn, and just as Tess raises her voice, speaking his name like a command, John and Dean come through the door of the suite with Pastor Jim. None of them hesitate, heading for the bedroom to find out what the boy’s done wrong now, and Mathieu, coming out from the shower follows them.

“Tess?”

“Apparently Sam here thinks he’s good to go, John.” Tess’ voice is smooth, and Dean winces at the iron hidden in it before his annoyance with his stubborn brother surfaces.

“Samuel.” John's voice is heavy.

And Sam looks up. And straight the fuck back at the floor, because he’s just come to the rather poignant realization that he’s in a room trying to defy a dominatrix, two doms, his father, a priest and an overbearing psychic, and he must be nine kinds of crazy. Slowly, he slinks back to the bed, and shimmies under the blankets, attempting not to turn his back on any of them. A round of glances are exchanged, and they all file back out slowly, each one shaking his head, until Sam’s left with his father. _Of all of them_ , the boy thinks to himself, _it had to be John who out-alphaed the rest of them._

“I didn’t expect to find you disobeying someone who drove a couple hundred miles with a complete stranger to see to your well-being.”

There’s silence, and Sam makes the second, or perhaps third error of the morning. “I’m going back to sleep, honest,” he says, meaning it, and rolls over to get the covers more firmly situated. Two steps carry John over to the bed, because it’s plain that the only way the blankets are going to get straightened out is if he peels them all back and replaces them one by one. Sam flattens himself into the mattress, in a fourth and final error, and John’s big hand slaps down onto the boy’s thin boxers, gunshot loud in the tiny bedroom. He muffles a yelp in the pillow, because damn, that hurt, his dad didn’t hold anything back. Then he feels the sheet, and the two warm blankets settle over him, hears his father sigh.

“Someone with you, Sam, or are you going to behave.”

“I don’t need someone with me all the time-“ Sam’s tone is frustrated. 

“No, you don’t,” John says evenly. “Missouri explained that you’re just suffering from shock, you strained yourself, and you’re body’s not in much better condition than it would be after being sick. Rest for a day or two, and you’ll be fine. Keep pushing it, and you’re going to wind up hurting yourself, which will feel mild compared to the spanking I’ll give you.”

Sam’s eyes welled up with tears, and John shook his head. “Rest, Sam. It’ll fix a lot of things,” he says, thinking about the attitude more than anything else. Sam’s not sure whether to feel glad or upset that they’re leaving him alone finally, and John’s trying to grip his temper and not spank the kid for sulking.

He closes the door a little harder than necessary, and looks the room over. It’s quite a crowd, with the addition of Jim and Missouri, but they all fit, they all fit. Tess is sitting with Jim, the two of them have spent a lot of time in conversation since Jim arrived with Missouri the day before, and John’s glad they’re getting along. He makes his decision, looking at Dean standing in the kitchen with Missouri, who’s checking on supper, stirring a big pot of savory smelling soup.

“Dean. Maybe go lay down with your brother.” His oldest boy still looks tired, he’s done more sitting up at night than John has.

“Not if he’s whiney like that,” Dean says sourly, and Mathieu frowns and rises.

“Mind your father now,” he says, and it’s more of a command, and Dean looks up like a deer in the headlights. “Go, boy.”

Missouri’s eyes narrow. “Wait just a moment there, Dean,” she says, and her voice is a little cold. 

_Damnit, maybe this is what Sam felt like_ , Dean thinks, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to be in that bed with his brother, away from…. Yeah.

The psychic's eyes are fixed on Mathieu. “What did you do to that boy that makes him so nervous around you?” 

_OH SHIT_ , Dean thinks, but there’s no way he can run, because if he does, John will beat his ass for him for being rude to Missouri, and she’s got one of those wooden spoons in her hand… 

There’s no answer from Mathieu, just the odd silence of Missouri apparently eavesdropping on the man’s thoughts, and she frowns. “Dean, get on with you,” she says sharply, and he’s off like a shot, glad to be free of the firing zone, though he’s curious enough to leave the door open so he can hear, especially while he takes his time undressing.

There’s a loud pop, and a startled exclamation from the big dom, and Dean can’t believe his ears. She just smacked Mathieu with that wooden spoon-

“You can’t scare them like that, young man. Fear isn’t what discipline is all about, and you took it too far. I can’t believe John let you do something like that-“

“I didn’t,” says his father quietly, and Dean realizes for the first time that John isn’t happy about that time that Mathieu took the tawse to him. There’s the sound of another pair of swats, and then he hears Mathieu being banished to living room, and he ducks into the bed with Sam.

“Done sulking,” he asks his brother matter of factly.

“No,” comes the cranky reply, and he’s positioned just right to swat lightly at Sam’s butt. “Owwwww,” comes the predictable whine. “Don’t – I don’t want to get it from- from-“ His voice is frustrated, and Dean realizes the position he’s in. There are too damn many dominant people around, that’s for sure, and Dean’s slightly amazed Sam’s managed not to mouth off to any of them. The sound of Missouri’s voice filters in to them, getting louder and louder, and it finally serves to distract Sam, and Dean gets in close, sneaks a kiss, and it’s clear that Sam’s not going to reject the attention, that he might soften and quit with the pouting.

Their hands are just starting to wander, ignoring the multiple arguments coming from the living room. Too many people in one place, they’ve seen it before. It’s why they prefer just themselves, their father, and seeing the rest of the extended network one at a time. 

“Do we need ‘em?” Sam's whisper is subtle, but intense.

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, Sammy, we do. I need somethin’ more, though,” he suggests, with a pointed touch, and it distracts the boy again, at least until they hear their father bark the oft-heard command.

“BOYS! Front & Center!”

They shuffle out, heavy-eyed and flushed after exchanging a quick and worried mutter to one another, hoping they look like they'd been sleeping.

“Missouri has a little something to say to us.” They hear the tension in John’s tone, and rather than stand in front of him sheepishly for a scolding, they silently move to flank him, one on either side, ready for a fight.

Only her voice is quiet. “You’re not easy men, you Winchesters,” she says, ignoring the snort from Dean. “You have needs beyond what the rest of most people do, because of the job that you do. You’ve learned how to fulfill them, I’ll give you that, boys. But you can’t let all of it get you distracted, get caught up in who tops who – Sam’s just as important in this game as any of you, and I’ll beg all of you not to forget it, nor do I ever want to see someone forgetting how much he depends on his brother and John here. Now you boys look at me. You’ve got a job to do, the time is pretty close here, and as soon as I’m sure Sam’s fine, the kind Reverend and I will go on back home, shelter down. But I want you to realize what you’ve got in this room here. It’s the one thing that you’ve had all your lives, the thing you feel in the very air around you, John. She’s still with you, Mary, and that’s not because she’s trapped or enspelled or harmed in any way. She’s here because of love, and you need to realize that – that’s what’s going to bring you out ahead of that damn demon in the end. The three of you know how to love, and you love each other, you love other people. Demons don’t know how to love, and it will bring you out on top in the end.”

It’s a long speech, and it rings in the room. Then she smiles at them, at the people who are watching her warily. _These Winchesters, they don’t do emotions, and the doms aren’t much better_ , she thinks. “Then again, John Winchester, you raised two teenage boys on your own without hardly any help, got two fine young men standing there either side of you. That’s got to mean you’re smarter than any demon.”

Laughter rings through the room at that, and somehow, the tension eases.


End file.
